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OSWALD, 



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WITH OTHER POEMS. 



BY T. G. VEAL. 



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LONDON: •> 

30LD BT LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, PATERNOSTER ROW J 

FLETCHER, SOUTHAMPTON ; HORSEY, PORTSEA } AND NICHOLSON, 

FAREHAM. 



1818. 



tr 



Pi iter, Portsea. 



TO 

WILLIAM WILLIAMS, Esq. 



Dear Sir, 

Perhaps my greatest pleasure in 
publishing this Tale may be the opportunity 
it affords me to acknowledge the disinterested 
kindnesses I for nearly three years received from 
you and yours. 

Few are more competent to judge of the merits 
anddemerits of this Work, and none, lam confident, 
will be more ready to allow the indulgences due to 
youth, inexperience, and want of time. 



VI DEDICATION. 

The following lines were ivritten after the bust' 
ness of my avocation ivas over, and those only can 
judge of my almost insuperable disadvantages, who 
have experienced the many inconveniences of a 
Scholastic Profession, particularly of the depart- 
ment below Superintendency. 

With regard to my characters, should it be asked 
why I have introduced a Turk for my Hero, this 
must be my answer, because I have read of no 
people so susceptible of the extremes of passion. 

Let not the supposition be indulged, that my 
theological opinions must be consonant with the 
sentiments expressed by some of my imaginary 
personages ; as it would be as inconsistent, and as 
far deviating from the fact, as to suppose that the 
advocates of virtuous actions must be unexceptiona- 
bly the performers of them. 



DEDICATION. 



Should there be any faint glimmerings of ability 
in the folloiving Composition, any promising rays 
in this early morning of life, may not a brighter 
noon (sans vanite) be anticipated. As the Peruser 
of these lines, 1 know you ivill consider that they 
are the Production of perseverance ; as a Friend, 
you icill acknotvledge the imperfections but forgive 
them; as a Critic, pause before you blast, conscious, 
that the triumph over weakness can be but in- 
significant : 

Venator sequitur fugientia, capta relinquir, 
Gloria pugnantes vincere major erit. 

Gratitude compels me to make a public acknow- 
ledgement of my sincerest thanks to those who 
have condescended to patronize my first, my puerile 
Performance. Were I to mention them respectively, 
it would occasion severul additional pages to this 



«" DEDICATION. 

Work, and although the names of many persons 
as distinguished for their abilities, as they are 
conspicuous for their situations in life, would ap- 
pear, ; I have individually preferred this method of 
expressing my obligations, as being less tinctured 
with ostentation, 

I know I cannot by this dedication increase your 
celtbrily, but it is a pleasing pride, that a man so 
eminently useful in his profession, so universally 
esteemed for his abilities, and so admired in Ms 
domestic circle, permits me to subscribe myself, 

Most affectionately, 

His obedient Servant, 
T. G. VEAL. 

May 1, 1818. 



OSWALD. 



CANTO FIRST. 



Quae tam festa dies, ut cesset prodere furem, 
Perfidiam, fraudes, atque omni ex crimine lucrum 
Quaesitum, et partos glarlio, vel pyxidc uummos ? — 

JOVENAt. 
I. 

" Free as the gales that skim the watery way, 
" Free as the waves which dash the milky spray, 
" Free as the birds that cleave the denseless air, 
il So boundless free the Bandit's pleasures are. 
" Nor earth, nor sky, affects his active nerves ; 7 
" Nor pain, nor danger, duty's function swerves. 
" Though seared by toil, each feels a pleasure true 
" To grasp the plenty which surrounds the few, 
" And scarce can conscience call that action sin, 
ee Which masters dangerous obstacles to win :— 10 



" What if it do ? examples make it void— 

" Dishonest all, the employer and the employed : 

" Forced by a tyrant's will, the rude-born boor 

" fri mean submission labours — and is poor ; 

" He work:?,, he groans, ah ! sedulous in vain! 

" The haughty master triumphs in his chain ; 

" Upbraids his sloth, his pilfering disapproves, 

" Condemns the failings that his life approves ; 

" While he, the clown, the same advice conveys, 

" And both are villains, but in different ways. 20 

" Ours is a something fathomless to all, 

" Alike unfelt, save in a Bandit's soul ! 

-" Can welcome danger, metamorphose death, 

" And brave the monster with a dying breath. 

" What though no tears shall trickle o'er Our grave, 

" Such tears as pity weeps for virtuous brave : 

" No splendid tomb, no marble urn shall rise, 

" No measured lays, to grace our obsequies ; 

" Unhallowed ground shall hold our mouldering clay, 

" Our vault — some cavern, and our tears— the spray ; 30 

" No monarch's voice, no senate's shall adjust 

" The figured dome, or emulative bust ; 

" Yet, as the Ephesian's, 1 still our deeds shall last, 

'* For Fame has blown them with an unusual blast!" 



II. 

Such were the sounds that echoed round the Cave, 

Which formed a shelter for the cruel brave, — 

The flinty roof with checkered flashes gleams ; 

The purple juice in sparkling currents streams ; 

With clamorous shouts the mountain-world resounds, 

The ragged song, or hoarser laugh abounds. 4C 

Here, one more callous would unblushing tell 

How oft the traveller by his dagger fell ; 

How oft he smiled to hear the dying prayer 

Invoking vengeance on the ruthless slayer. 

Another, wiped, with unaverted eye, 

Corroding steel from recent guilty die, 

Nor felt a chill, nor deemed the frozen stain 

Had aught to sicken, or to whisper pain. 

But say, what means that sudden, anxious Still ? — 

The Crew 's alarmed — the cause ? — a bugle's thrill ! 50 

" Hassan's within — not his the unwonted blast — 

" He comes ! — " 

" What — ho ! who guards the outer fast ? " 
" Bernardo's there — Lorenzo was the last " — 
l( Again—" 

he looked inexplicably stern :— 
" Conrad, ascend, this strange intrusion learn — " 



How changed the scene ! a moment since how rude — 
^Twas then on wine, but now, all think on blood ! 
" In peasant's garb one seeks admission here — " ^0 
" Alone ?"— 

" Alone !— " 

" the trap unbolt — nor fear — " 

III. 

Admittance gained, the Stranger strode his way, 
Nor deigned to heed the guide's repeated ' stay. 5 
And as he passed the eager-gazing throng, 
He glanced a look that silenced every tongue ; 
In embryo crushed the mien's expressive thought, 
For why ? or what ? — he thus their Cavern sought — 
" Your Chief I seek—" 70 

" yon's he with sable plume — " 
« 'Tis only he—" 

enough — they quit the room — 
Not so the doubts the mind ; suspicions rise, 
All think of him — the Stranger in disguise. 
One said, superior to his scowling mien, 
O'erclouded traits of dignity were seen ; 
The haughty brow, the sullen, piercing pry, 
Portentous marks, that vulgar souls belie: 



His hasty steps concealment ill became : 80 

One saw— or thought he saw— a falchion's gleam ; 

Then — when he passed the Cavern's farther fast — 

His cloak was ruffled by a sudden blast. 

Imagination swells the mental strife, 

And half-quenched doubtings blazen into life. 

From him they augur ills as yet unborn, 

A palling night, discordant with their morn. 

Nor was their Chief of late as wont to be, 

Nor seemed he wholly of suspicion free ; 

For oft he wandered from the Cave alone, 90 

Nor knew his Vassals wherefore he was gone ; 

And when returned, he kept within — concealed — 

Nor of his wanderings any thing revealed ; 

Excepting once — when, flinging off his cloak, 

He missed his dagger, and of treachery spoke; 

And muttered much, and said the time would be 

The man he served, should curse his villainy. — ■ 

Thus, chill surmises wane to discontent, 

And in distrustings peevishly relent. 

" Marked ye not how he grasped his outer guise, iqq 

" As if to shun inquisitorial eyes? 

" Why, shrinks he not to mingle with a Clan, 

ft Whose very name e'en harrows fears in man ? 



" He knows our Chief— for Pedro saw him bend, 

« Not as a stranger — neither seemed he friend : 

" Nor glowed his cheek, as lighted by surprise, 

** When Hassan met his scrutinizing eyes— 

*' He is no peasant , though the garb he wore ! 

" 'T would freeze his heart, ay ! to its inmost core, 

" At dead of night, unarmed— alone — to come; 110 

" A bravo thus would shudder far to roam.—* 

" He might be traitor, purchased to betray, 

u y of g^ can bribe its damned slaves to stray 

" Where lions fear, and tigers will not prowl, 

" Nor wolves affrighten with the midnight howl— 

< c What if he tell some direful storm will fall ; 

" If 'gainst our Chief, 'tis dangerous sure to all — 

" All claim alike the shelter held for one, 

" All care alike the impending ill to shun." 

The growing spark had burst in direful flame, 120 

But Osmond passed — and looked a look of shame : 

Save him, no man his Chiefs emprizes knew : 

Dauntlessly brave, in thickest fight he flew ; 

With reeking hands, to darker regions sped, 

A vulpine throng that round his Chieftain spread : 

From hence securer bonds than interest's tie — 

Friendship must prompt when man for man can die: 



Nor marvel how a jewel so refined, 

Could gain admittance in a Bandit's mind : 

The flinty rock has fed the purple bell ; 130 

The daisy flower bedecked the barren dell ; 

In oozy streams, the glittering ore is found ; 

The blazing stone, within the rugged mound — 

" These wranglings cease — let dark Sedition fly — 

" The man who dares to doubt — must dare to die".— 

'Twas but a moment's gloom — and Anger tame, 

Untwined her coil and withered into Shame ; 

Each swarthy visage self-confusion clothed, 

And soon the mind, the mincl's misgivings lothed. 

IV. 

" The Stranger comes" — the Troop intensely scanned 140 

With riving gaze — amazement filled the Band, — 

As if to search the heart of heart's recess, 

And pluck from thence its hidden secretness. 

But as he turned, a half-formed smile was seen, 

Yet in its birth 'twas withered on his mien ; 

A smile, that glided with suspicion's dart, 

And scared the doubtings of a doubtful heart; — 

Though pale Distrust ran whispering through theCrew, 

The Stranger deemed himself unknown to view, 



Glowed with the thought.— to Hassan gave a wave, 150 
With cautious steps then hurried from the Cave. 

V. 

But lo their Chief! awhile he paused and stood 

A musing statue — then his Vassals viewed — 

As if some mystery revelled in his breast, 

Which wished, but feared, to vent itself to rest. — 

He might be wronged — but then his face denied 

The nameless something which the gazer spied— 

" To-night I leave you ! yes, to-night I go, 

" Alone — not yet to battle with a foe ; 

" Yet, ere your Chief's return, there shall a blow 160 

" Be struck on one — my curse— O Fortune smile ! 

" And let success enrich the long-wished while. — 

" Osmond, attend, within this offered scroll, 

" Is wrote the purport of my labouring soul : 

" Soon as the period mentioned here is fled, 

" The Troop well arm, and through the forest lead 

" To where is stated— mark thou well the rest, 

" Not as a chieftain's, but a friend's behest. 

i( Within an hour from hence I make retreat — 

" Thou, Pedro, wait, and see my arms complete—' 170 

" Still let the guards be duly placed without, 

" Nor fail to send the plunder-greeting scout— 



M Nor wander far, lest safety's lost by zeal, 

" The fault of one may blast the general weal— 

" Should booty offer, let no prating one 

" Survive, and others tell what deeds were done — 

" But time has wings, the better wish is brief, 

1 « While absence lasts, let Osmond be your Chief. -" 

" How strange the act !" revibrates far and near, 

And some were wrought to hate, and some to fear. 180 

" How strange the act ! but whose the cunning wile?" 

In whispers echoes through the vaulted ile. — 

And whose— but his, the Stranger's, who retired 

With haughty brow, exultingly inspired ? 

IV. 

The time is come — and at the hour they find 

Hassan prepared — disguised as travelling hind* 

He filled the goblet, drank success anew, 

Shook Osmond's hand, and bade the rest adieu. 

He quits the hall !— the Cavern shelving soon — 

The chain withdrawn, he views the glittering moon ; 190 

The dancing radiance wavered o'er the place— 

The stars were twinkling- cloudless was the face 

Of heaven —he gained the trap — a moment more 

Without he stood — he startled as the door 



10 



Concealed the gap — he marked the fastening chain, 

Replaced the brake, and hastened to the plain — 

Speeds through a pass — now o'er a craggy way 

He bends his course — glistening was the spray — ■ 

A wood he reached — the gloom was awful, wild, 

For not a ray the impervious path beguiled ; 20O 

Impenetrably thick the broad trees grew, 

Expelled sky, stars, and Luna's light from view. — 

'Twould fright a Bravo's soul, if fear could dwell 

Within the confines of so foul a cell ! 

There was a Cave, engulphed beneath the brow 

Of craggy rocks, scarce boots it when or how ; 

Yet one might deem it formed by Nature's hands: 

On either side a rising mountain stands; 

Its narrow path the hind could scarcely tread, 

So thick, so wild, the pierceless branches spread. 2l# 

Its yawning mouth was hid by bushy brakes, 

Securely held by intertwining stakes. 

So nice the art, the Viewer scarce could tell 

The secret passage to the darksome cell : 

'Twas here, the Murderer might securely dwell, 

And think of Heaven exchanged for depthless Hell ; 

'Twas here, that Conscience echoing back his guilt, 

Might deem him damned for the blood he spilt : 



11 



'Twas here, that Hatred— Strife — Ambition — Care — 

Of Hope deprived— might madden to Despair. — 220 

And here came Hassan — gloomily he came — 

He bends — he calls — he answers to his name — 

'Twas he, the Stranger, who had left his hall, 

Was loitering there, and echoed back his call — 

A light was glimmering in the nearest arch— 

They both descend — and Hassan takes the torch. — 

Their miens how ghastly with the yellow flare ! 

As Death and Devil stalking in their lair ! 

" The night is cold, or else the Cavern's damp — " 

" It is — it is — be careful of the lamp, 230 

" Should that expire, 'twere useless in the dark 

" To probe this mazy way — " 

" Whence that noise?— hark!" 
" 'Tis but the droppings of the Cavern's wall, 
" Which far decending bubble as they fall." 
" Marked you a Peasant as you passed the wood ?" 
" When? tonight?" 

" ay— ay— " 

" no—" 
" methought one viewed 240 
" Me with a curious eye, as if afraid 
" My dagger was for him "— 



12 OSWALD. 

" we're not betrayed?" 
i( Give fears to winds — if villany is near, 
" Beneath this Cloak the Traitor's death I wear." 
And much they wander ere their wanderings end, 
At length the windings thickening, narrower bend — 
The light's extinguished — farther on, the eye 
Could see the twinklings of the spangled sky.— 
A gate was there—it led to rising ground 250 

Like Castle's wall, or elevated mound — 
The Stranger spoke — *' in silence Hassan wait 
While I ascend and see there's none to prate." 
" 'Twas well : " — he went— a moment gone — again 
Returned — and Hassan started from the dropping den. 



OSWALD, 



CANTO SECOND. 



— — Misero quod omnes 

Eripit sensus mihi : nam simul te 
Lesbia aspexi, nihil est super mi 

Quod loquar amens : 
Lingua sed torpet, tenuis sub artus 
Flamma dimanat, sonitu suopte 
Tinniunt aures, gemina teguntur 

Lumina nocte. 

CATDi. Epig. 52. 

I. 

In Zanga's Castle busy is the scene, 

In Zanga's Castle arms are heard again : 

Each crested head with towering plumage waves ; 

With war's emotions every bosom heaves : 

The bossy shields which long had graced the hall, 

Corroded spears long figured on the wall, 



14 



Are now removed — the din of steel resounds, 

The glowing court with death-armed troops abounds. 

Changed is thy soul, O Zanga, ah ! to thee 

Lost are the joys of softer harmony! 10 

Zulema stolen!— it were not strange that now 

Revenge alone could radiate thy brow — 

Soft peace was thine — a withering storm arose, 

Blasted thy hopes, and made thy transports woes. 

II. 

He loved — adored — but was he loved again — 

Oh! pregnant thought, pervading, filled with pain! — 

Zulema heard his vows, and hearing, blushed — 

She did not frown — love's fearfulness was hushed. 

He wept, he knew not why, yet wept again — 

His woe was gone, his tears, not tears of pain. 20 

The imprisoned flame, free, bursts its narrow cell, 

In rapturous bliss, in boundless joy to dwell ! 

Zulema's — Zanga's crimson cheeks unite ; 

Their burning lips — ineffable delight! 

Their mutual bliss irriguous omens prove — 

No words they want — 'twas pure, 'twas speechless love! 

Let Monarchs boast ubiquitary sway, 

Their millions count, who silently obey ; 



15 



Let Conquerors vaunt the many marble forms 

In admiration of their dauntless arms ; 30 

The Poet wave the Bard's immortal wreath, 

For godlike sparks his measured verses breath ; 

The power's confined; the Victor's raptures dull; 

The Halo's dim, compared with Zanga's soul ! 

Untired — unchanged — the impassioned Lovers grew, 

And often told — 'twas sweet! their loves anew. 

But once they met, it seemed the last to part, 

The wild farewell long echoed to the heart; 

It augured much, a thought benumbed with pain, 

As if they parted, ne'er to meet again. 40 

III. 

" The varied streaks from yon expiring sun, 
" The gloom condensing, prove the day is done — 
" The voiceless woods, the floating Zephyr's chill, 
" The glittering rills, the universal still, 
" Heaven's spangled armour, and yon silver lamp, 
" The weeping dews, the air's imbibing damp, 
" Proclaim the night. " — then Zanga to the grove 
Retired, where first Zulema heard his love- 
He oft strayed there ! again, again, to tell 
His quenchless flame, his yet unaltered soul : §0 



16 



There on her breast to breathe the sinless sigh, 

Which never broke from heart of treachery ; 

To kiss the tear of joy, which stole unseen, 

From her full eye, and rippled down her mein; 

To hear her words, which tremulously told, 

What Virtue's self could never blush to unfold. 

He came— he stopt-- yet still no footsteps heard — 

* ( Another hour — not yet" — he doubted — feared — 

" Why these chill thoughts, forboding heart — say why ? 

" Zulema's false — Oh ! no she's purity ! 60 

" Not thus she used — 'twas winged — not pinioned haste— 

" She ne'er did thus, dear, precious moments, waste— 

" She fears the cold! perhaps yon Alcove sought, " 

He knocked — he looked — there solemn stillness wrought. 

His doubting heart bethought the Corridore — 

But disappointment mocked him o'er and o'er : 

The worked Saloon — dull solitude was there, 

No face — no voice — removed his anxious care. 

His mind re-echoed back their last adieu, 

* Zanga, farewell ! ' till death Zulema's true : 70 

Her wild embrace, her trembling, chilling, kiss— 

Her sobs — as if she sobbed adieu to bliss; 

Her weeping Agony, her swollen eye, 

As Pleasure blasted into Misery ; 



OSWALD. 17 

Were seen afresh, but now his heart they tore, 
Chilled in its blood, and curdled in its core. 
"She's gone — but where? — lie still thou heaving- heart — 
u And is it coldly thus, without one tear we part"? — 
Naught knew the Matrons of their Lady's flight, 
Though one observed, when first the curtained night 80 
Let fall her folds, two Peasants strangely steal 
Around the Mansion, through the distant vale, 
(Where oft Zulema walked — ) there Zanga bounds— 
The valley gained, soon echoes with his sounds: 
• Zulema's name, the distant rocks repeat, 
The dells, the mountains, and the thick retreat; 
Zulema's name, in wildest doubts he cries — 
Zulema comes not — sends not — nor replies. — 
He sought the wood, and as he trod the way, 
A something waving hung upon a spray ; 90 

He turned — he started — as by magic tranced, 
His eyes aghast on some delusion glanced ; 
He looked — he grasped a veil with trembling hand, 
" 'Tis hers — she's stolen — ' he groaned, he fell unmanned ' 
Oh ! how he felt — for near the torn bush laid, 
Where hung the tattered vest, a sheathless blade ! 
He saw no blood, nor had the steel a stain — 
But she was gone— and more — she might be slain — 



18 



He rose — he sprung — his flashing sabre drew ; 

To Alla's throne his starting eye balls flew — 100 

" O Prophet ! pray one hour for my revenge — 

" Zulema ! Zanga will thy wrongs avenge ; 

" Within this breast shall Blood her banners rear ^ 

" Pity, avaunt — Regret, begone — hence, Fear — 

" Remembrance ! stamp indelibly the deed ; — 

" Reflection! wing this well proved falchion's speed — 

" No boyish tears shall dim the glittering blade. — 

" A crimson die, a richer hue shall spread — 

These words addressed — he flew with anxious breath., 

To rouse Destruction and to summon Death. 110 

Thus oft alas ! when Expectation's high, 

And Hope looks smiling at Felicity ; 

When skies are mistless, and no murky cloud 

In ether swims, the radiancy to shroud ; 

When winds are voiceless, and life's checkered stream, 

Flows smoothly on, unruffled and serene : 

Hope shrivels into pain — heaven scowling grows — 

And the still calm to rudest tempest blows. 

IV. 

The night had waned — sweet breathed the youthful 

morn, 
The dew transparent glistened on the thorn, 120 



19 



The Moon retired, as if ashamed to view 

The brighter Orb from whence her radiance grew ; 

From steaming earth sweet exhalations sprung, 

And countless warblers morning sonnets sung. 

Yet still the lamp illumined Zanga's Hall, 

The Warder still looked anxious from the wall — 

He came not — sent not — morning fled like night — 

The fervid noon — " 'tis strange — all is not right! — " 

Thus fled the hours — again the expiring day 

In lucid dew-drops weeps its self away — 130 

The gate's secured — the silver moon her reign 

Again resumes — the guard his post again.— 

'Twas then, that muffled in his cloak he blew 

A treble blast — with joy the Porter flew — 

Breathless, o'erspent with haste, pale Zanga sped 

Direct within — the inmates frightened fled — 

There stretched, he thought of happiness deprived, 

He searched for hope — alas ! no hope derived — 

He thought on her — Zulema — vanished — stolen — 

On promised pleasures — ever, ever flown — 140 

He thought her false— that thought was madness — death; 

His eyes rolled vacant, thick his struggling breath — 

He thought, Ob ! damning thought ! anothe r's bliss— 

Boasting — revelling-— in her wanton kiss: 



20 



He clenched his hand — his steel— he muttered— drew — 
He raised his arm — a Vassal met his view — 
He stopt — he blushed — a dagger fell unseen — 
The soul's confusion fluttered on the mien. 

V. 

Vain were his hopes at dawn, the morning sun 

Would ease his heart — restore that stolen one! 150 

Vain, that at evening hour she might return, 

And cool his feverish brain's distracting burn ! 

Again the wood he trod, the valley sought, 

Again in vain ! the search no knowledge brought. 

He deemed each ruffled bush, each bending spray, 

Disrobed by those who tore his all away. — 

Strange who his foes— for Zanga ne'er 

Had rashly caused a Tyrant's hate or fear. 

Nor would the neighbouring Bandits seize, for they 

Esteem not women, but a golden prey. 160 

VI. 

One night he wandered— not as wont ; to impart 

The unextinguished passion of his heart, 

But wrapt in thought — he passed the moat— 'twas full — 

A second heaven was glittering in the pool, 



21 



Walls, turrets, spires, with pierceless ivy crowned. — 
Beyond the bridge, a rolling hat he found, 
And farther still, a Peasant— senseless — pale — 
The unhappy Stranger answered not his hail : 
And Zanga pitied— pity's function felt — 
Though seared by grief yet still his heart could melt.170 
Thus, sacred Virtue never fails to show 
Her power, where once she loves to glow ; 
Though veiled awhile in sad affliction's shroud, 
Her darkened rays dart dimly through the cloud, 
She still exists, and ever shall, to be 
The Sun to melt the mists of misery. 
The Guard he summoned — " bear the Stranger in"— 
Twas quick obeyed with pleasure on the mein ; 
" 'Twas thus he used" — the gladdened Warder cried — 
" 'Twas thus he used — " and as he finished — sighed. 180 
The morning came, and with its earliest light 
Came sweeter health, to greet the Peasant's sight; 
Around him stand the Castle's gazing train, 
Anxious to hear his woe, relieve his pain. — 
" Say friends to whom my kind relief I owe, 
" That my full soul its thankfulness may show." 
«' Zanga our Chief —why that pallid hue ? 
" His face, how changed !' — they wonder as they view— 



22 



" At Zanga's name — 'twere passing strange if he 

" Could cause the ill, and yet Preserver be ; 190 

e * But so it must -or wherefore did he start, 

" As if the sound were wormwood to his heart? 

" Could he be villain ? he with sin agree ? — 

" If Angels change to Devils— then might he! 

" What though no Christian — yet he has a God — 

" A soul — a hope — a heaven — and vice's rod ; 

" And nature too — as warm — as pure a heart — 

" And faults has Zanga — shieldless — free to art — " 

And much they marked his late disquietude, 

In silence marked it — farther might be rude — 200 

And now that Peasant sickens at his name, 

'Tis as a breeze to fan the hidden flame. 

" Where's now that Chief ? for he must know my tale, 

" For much it nears him, much concerns his weal, 

" If thoughts are right, if naught besides, his aid 

" Right claims my gratitude, which had been paid 

" Before, but at his name my fears grew green, 

" And all my terrors rose as newly seen ; 

" It roused again my scarce forgotton fear — 

" 'Twas as a parent's death-bell on my ear ; 210 

" For, oh! it brought afresh a sufferer's cry, 

" A weeping female's screaming agony — 



23 



" I heard her shrieks, I heard her ardent prayer—" 
1 Zanga survives to blast thee, cursed betrayer.' — 

VI. 

" Zanga's within, in safety rest, while I 

" The message give, and wait for his reply. — " 

And while one tarried, much the Vassals strive 

To know the tale, but nothing could derive, 

Save this, that lately, as he walked by night, 

Strange sights he saw, which filled him with affright- 

And cries had heard, and when he nearer grew, 220 

In Peasant's garbs two Strangers met his view, 

Who in their arms a senseless female bore, 

But soon they vanished, and he heard no more : 

Returning to his cot that night, he viewed 

One seen before, strange hurrying through the wood — 

He wore a cloak, yet still by moon-light's beam, 

Which brightly shone, he marked a something gleam — . 

'Twas armour— then he deemed him bravo fierce, 

The Peasant's terror, and the Traveller's curse. — 330 

Thus winged with fear, o'er hill and plain he sped, 

And quickening on, he fell, o'ercome with dread. 

When summoned by their Chief, long time within 

He stayed, and told his all in secret and unseen ; 



24 



And since that hour, on Zanga's faded mien 

A smiling something often had been seen ; 

It was not hope, nor looked it like despair, 

Yet something grew instead of sorrow there : 

He seemed familiar — with the old discoursed, 

And smiled applause when they on arms conversed ; 240 

But when they told a Tyrant's direful fall, 

He heard it twice — as if it pleased his soul — 

Would give a smile for every gushing wound, 

And tearless view him, writhing on the ground ; — 

And ask his deeds— and then he would appear 

Absorbed in thought, and oft would drop a tear, 

Not for his death — but those his cruel hate 

Had wronged — at length avenged — perhaps too late!— 

His Castle now a different aspect wore, 

The din of war, scarce ever heard before, 250 

Loud echoes there — the youthful Vassals armed, 

With love of Fame, and hopes of Glory warmed ; 

In martial movements tread the spacious Yard, 

Proud of their trappings, prouder of their Lord. 



OSWALD, 

a Cale* 



CJNTO THIRD. 

O Treacherous Conscience ! while she seems to sleep 
On rose and myrtle, lulled with siren song; 
» ■ " See, from behind her secret stand, 

The sly informer minutes every fault, 
And her dread diary with horror fills. 

Young. 



I. 

Bright flame the various lamps in Oswald's Hall ; 
The haughty banners float along the wall ; 
A bending troop on either side appears, 
Enrobed in armour— many are its spears — 
Arms, vests, devices, glitter in the rays, 
And add a lustre to the general blaze! 



Aloft in order sit the Vocal train, 

In boisterous echoes rolls the trumpet's strain; 

The noisy drum, the lover's sweeter lute, 

The clanking cymbal, and the pipe so mute, 10 

Resound — but why the feast ? no matter why — 

'Twas Oswald's feast! — and more who dared to pry ? 

His deeds were strange, and some could farther say, 

But yet they must not — lives might whisperings pay. 

His wealth was vast, his gifts to all were great, 

And gold can melt the soul resolved to hate ! 

Though passing kind, he never fawned — caressed — 

And not a man his secret thoughts possessed. 

His very air would stifle disrespect — . 

None dare despise, though few his fame protect. 20 

And sleeping sometimes he would strangely start, 

(Perchance some secret palaced in his heart — ) 

And mutter much (better perhaps concealed) 

Of Towers and Force — and yet they nought revealed 

To prove him Villain, nor the doubts repose — 

Still undefined and wandering thoughts arose. 

The aged sires would shake their locks, and say, 

Deeds had been done which could not face the day ; 

They prayed him peace, but faltered as they prayed, 

As if their object hopelessly had strayed. 30 



27 



In deepest gloom he oft would pace the wall, 

While every Vassal revelled in the hall, 

Except the lonely Guard — and he would steal, 

Silent and unperceived to gather — to reveal ; 

Nor vain his pry — for once in darkest night, 

A muffled something flitted in his sight, 

Which roused suspicion — and his heart might fear 

'Twere Ghost or Daemon — but a voice was near, 

Which seemed responsive to another's call, 

That faintly echoed from remoter wall. 

'Twas then with cautious steps he nearer stole, 

And stood concealed within a turret's hole ; 

And there be quaked — for who could surely say 

A dagger might not his presumption pay ? 

Yet still he stayed — and could he thence withdraw? 

'Twere certain death e'en if his flight they saw. 

From thence, he heard words little understood, 

And yet he trembled — they were words on blood. 

And one seemed Oswald, for he louder grew, 

And by his anger he his accents knew ; 

Or thought he did—" she must — she shall be mine, 

" I've doubly sworn it at the hallowed shrine ; 

'" Nor would I break my sacred oath to please 

" A dying Father and his conscience ease ! " 



28 



Were words he heard — and more he had, but wind 

Rude whistling blew, and left them undefined : 

It ceased — he marked — the same was speaking still 

Of one who ought and should obey his will ; 

If not, he knew 'twere better far to see, 

A rival bleeding than outrivalled be ; 60 

Blood might be best, so firm he thought their love, 

That death alone would but propitious prove. 

The other blamed — and said 'twas surer far 

To fight a cunning, than an open war ; 

As yet he scarcely knew his Rival, if he did 

It were not good he openly should bleed. — 

And much they mused, for midnight long had fled, 

Before the Stranger from the Castle sped ; 

And when he passed, he glided quick— unseen — 

Except by him who had a witness been : 70 

Nor e'er had be the secret passage known, 

Through which the Stranger— Daemon-like had flown. 

II. 

And music had been heard ! such strains as swell, 
When secret anguish preys upon the soul ! 
Such soothing chords as weeping mortals greet — 
Sadness' melting charm— tremulous, yet sweet ! 



But vulgar minds had deemed them troubled sounds 

Of wandering Ghost— that flits in serial bounds — 

Or hovers o'er with mad disquietude 

The tombless bones, or dungeon stained with blood ; 80 

Invoking Vengeance, with a nightly lay 

Of sweetest, saddest, purest melody ! 

But one there was, who farther could relate 

Of sounds, but durst not — what might be his fate ! 

For well he knew> the soul once worked to fear, 

Would feel a Hell, when what it feared was near ; 

And adder-like, would writhe, and hiss, and sting, 

Till death had silenced the detested thing: 

Besides, he trespassed on forbidden ground — 

He were as dead within that fortress found ! 90 

And few would venture unforbidden there — 

'Twas like a lion's or a tiger's lair ! 

For who could wander near that frightful tower ? 

So great the force of Superstition's power ! 

But he had gone, no matter wherefore — why — 

He still had gone, and were it known — might die. 

And well he marked and oft again had read, 

And then would sigh, and wish he had not stayed. 

A Female's mournful accents he could hear— 

She seemed relating of a dream of fear.— 100 



30 OSWALD. 

As yet, 'twas dark— she might have just awoke — 

But much she wept, and weeping- thus she spoke : 

" Tell me no more !— though but a midnight's dream, 

" The scene was chilling — terrible to name ! — 

" I viewed the strife — I saw his flashing sword — 

" Steel firing steel, with jarring clang I heard — 

" I marked him wounded, bloody, pale — he knelt — 

" With every look a deeper pang I felt! 

" 'Twas then methought he viewed me from afar, 

" The sight but armed him mightier for the war— 110 

" Again he rose, again his falchion waved, 

" Again his face with sweat and gore was laved ! — 

" Crowds fell on crowds! — while he by victory flushed 

" With speed impetuous o'er the drawbridge rushed ; 

" The Guards— affrighted — wondering — death-struck — 

fled— 
" While every stroke but multiplied the dead !„ 
" Bands wedged in vain his fury to repel — 
" Who dared withstand — within a moment fell — 
" His vengeful eyes flashed terror and dismay ! — 120 
" His spattered armour, sword, Havoc's tints display; 
" Streams hurried streams, and groans re-echoed groans ! 
" The victors' shouts confused with dying moans ! 
" In blackest clouds now rolling smoke arose — 
" The buzzing blasts encircled friends and foes — 



31 



" Through crackling windows howled embodied fire : 
M Down tumbling fell walls, battlements, and spire ! 
(( In belching flames he vanished from my view — 
" O God ! my fears — again in sight he flew ! 
" The tower he gained — the nearer Turret passed — 130 
" A moment more — with anxious raptures clasped 
" His lost Zulema— Alia — Prophet praised — 
" He wildly kissed me and as wildly gazed — 
" 'Twas bliss ! 'twas Heaven ! 'twas agony ! 'twas Hell !— • 
" For Zanga ! bleeding— groaning — writhing — fell. — 
" Convulsed, I raved — I shrieked a thrilling scream — 
" Awoke, and scarce believed the cause — a dream ! — 

III. 

But on this night, had Oswald summoned all, 

To feast — carouse — within the ancient Hall. 

He oft did thus !— -not that he loved the mirth, 140 

Or deemed the pleasures more than nothing worth, 

Which pleased his Vassals — for he much would chide 

The charms of vulgar souls, but felt a pride 

To see his banners ruffled in the wind — 

Sure exultations to the haughty mind ! 

Besides, there fled to sight amidst the show, 

That gloomy something, which would shade his brow 



32 



When e'er he sat alone, that chaos of the soul, 

Which list in darkness, never ends to roll. 

High at the feast he sits, but scarcely quaffs 150 

The offered pledge, or mingles in the laughs. 

And near, a Stranger — Hassan known by name ; 

He came that eve — none knew from whence he came— 

" A stormy night, if omens ever won ; 

" In murky vapours died the setting sun ; 

" And as the glade some distance hence I passed, 

" Thick rolled the clouds — portentous of a blast ! 

" Already flashes wavered in the air : 

" My courser startled at the flitting glare, 

" And wildly bounded, as if roughly driven, 160 

" To escape the war, black-gathering in the Heaven ! " 

And true he spoke— for scarcely ceased his tale, 

When flashed the lightnings, followed by a peal 

Of rumbling thunder — fearfully all rose, 

Save Oswald, Hassan, they no fears disclose — 

A silence followed — through the painted glass 

The thickening lightnings, strangely wavering pass, 

And paint huge figures on the farther wall — 

Which else was dark — 'twas distant from the Hall — 

The windows rattle rudely with the rain— 170 

" Marked ye that flash?—" the thunder rolled again — 



33 



Fresh tu* rents streamed — a calm again ensued — 
And Hassan kept a sullen, silent mood. 
" Ah! Mercy! — see yon tumbling mass of fire — 
" The falling orb glanced near the haunted spire — " 
" Was that a shriek?" Count Oswald wildly rose- 
He rushed without — the doors with jarring close — 
Few marked his absence, fewer still the cry — 
Each soul was wrapt in self security — 
The Stranger saw it with an angry eye. 190 

" E'er since my youth, I scarce have ever seen 
<c So rough a storm, (and many there have been 
" Since first my home was here,) — but one there was, 
" Which still all others greatly did surpass, 
" 'Twas at that time my sainted Lord expired — " 
Thus spoke a sire loquaciously inspired. — 
" Relate the scene" — he acted as desired — 
" O melancholy night ! to memory never lost ! 
" 'Twas at that season when the hoary frost, 
" First paints the golden earth with silver white, 200 
" And Sol grows grudging of his summer's light, 
" The Heavenly war began 2 — the tempest darkly scowled 
" Around the Castle— through the porches howled — 
" Scarce midnight reigned, a Stranger at the gate 
" Desired protection— wretched was his state ! 



34 



" My Lord consented — never sighed in vain 

" To him Distress — he asked him to explain 

" From whence he came — he spoke — (his form 

" How noble") — " sailing o'er the deep, the storm 

" Dashed rudely on the rocks our our fragile bark— 210 

" She gulped the waves — " 

" The roar increases — hark!" 
" The tale complete, reflection on the past, 
" Will arm our souls to meet the growing blast." 
" Her parting ribs soon gaped like yawning graves : 
" The blustering sea with mighty force upheaves 
" The Vessel — roaring Ocean madly lashed 
" Her cracking sides, as down again she splashed : 
" No hope remained ! — one torrent more we braved, 
" And on the clift again the Ship was laved — 220 

" A crash ensued — not greater was the shock, 
" When Sampson, strengthened by his growing lock, 
" Shook to its base the Pagans' crowded dome, 
" And buried thousands in a gaudy tomb. — 
" Awhile, I marked the crew, one quickly fell, 
" And the rude waters hurried out his soul; 
cc One grasped her slimy side, but the black flood 
" Came rolling on, and dashed him from the wood; 
" Now, sunk a mother in a child's embrace, 
" Now, a wife hanging on a husband's face; 230 



OSWALD. 35 

" Here, a fond brother, fonder sister there, 

" While their choked lives rushed spouting up in air ; 

" At length, I lost my hold-— O God! my fears ; 

" As the wild waves flounced buzzing in my ears — 

" Gasping, I rose — saw, on the billows borne, 

" The splinty rudder from the vessel torn — 

" I sprung — I seized — I braved the foaming deep, 

" And gained, (I scarce know how,) yon craggy steep." 

" Alarmed to hear him, to my Master's side 

" I wildly clung, my fears he wished to chide — 240 

" But did not — scarce as yet, the Stranger placed 

" Nearer the fire despondency had chased, 

" When, lo! my Lord — forgive, I still must weep — 

" Sunk in the slumbers of eternal sleep.— 

" Full twenty years had flown— one summer's morn 

« s I walked the wall — a Stranger passed, much worn 

" With time — yet, still I knew him well 

" For him who had been here before — to quell 

" My longing for his health, was vain — with joy 

" He wrung my hand — and with him walked a Boy, 250 

" Called Zanga, born in distant lands of great 

" Descendants, — victims to another's hate — 

" He loved him — took him for his own— and then 

" He bought that Castle in the distant glen : 



36 



" Not long he lived to bless his clan, — but ere 

" He died, he named that Stripling for his heir." 

Here ceased the Vassal — still the tempest sung, 

Still through the casement lightnings terrors flung, 

Danced o'er the steel and kissed the sparkling vase, 

Waved through the porch and vanished in the maze,260 

" A storm most welcome to that Bandit Chief, 

" Who nightly prowls the wood, destructive thief! 

" The peasants fear to travel there by night, 

" And shun the place, as if it held a sprite ; 

" And some suppose 'twas that same fearful he 

" Who stole that lady, lost so suddenly. — " 

" Where went the Count ?— «" each doubting, echoes, 

" where?" 
" His gloomy guest in loneliness sits there — 
" To leave the Stranger thus is somewhat rude — 
" In outward forms Count Oswald e'er was crude — 270 
" Our buried Master welcome gave to meet, 
" And with sweet greetings magnified the treat." 

IV. 

But mark yon Hassan, with his scornful eye, 

On that same train he looked not pleasantly, 

He mocked their prate, and thought such foes as they 

Would be but women in a midnight fray ; 



37 



He loved that tempest, and its deafening roar 

Which sung so harshly, pleased him but the more ; 

Its loudest blast was but the weaker part 

Of that black storm, which threatened in his heart. 280 

Nor loved their Chief, but cursed the doating fool, 

Who hoped to find in him a faithful tool — 

And cause he had, for through that Oswald gone, 

First mischief rose, and happiness had fiown ; 

He was the Fiend, that drove him from that heaven, 

Which Hope had painted, now by evil riven ; 

He was the monster, he the direful rock, 

'Gainst which his virtue made a damning shock : 

He deemed him thus — and 'twas enough that he 

Could blame another, and himself be free. 290 

And could he love him ? yes, with all the zeal, 

That starving wolves for fattened lambkins feel. 

And could he love ? could Peace and Torture love ? 

Has ever Joy with grinning Hatred throve ? 

Could Devil-angels, who so darkly fell, 

That Satan love, who changed their Heaven to Hell ? 

But once he thought him kind — and greatly so 

It had been better bad he deemed him foe. 

He taught him wisdom— so that Serpent taught, 

Who first on Eve with specious knowledge wrought ;300 



38 



He taught him honour — and with nicest art 

He taught him how to act a Murderer's part ; 

He taught him pleasure — with that Siren's call 

He lost his wealth — his soul — his God — his all — 

These were reflections that would haunt his breast, 

Now hope was gone, but could they give it rest? 

Too late, had Reason exercised her force — 

What ease is thine — impenitent Remorse ! 

Deprived of Fortune, sunk in that abyss 

(Compared with which e'en death itself were bliss,)310 

Esteemed a Cain and hunted by that nest 

Of Snakes, he fed — disrobed of every zest; 

He fled his home and cursed his setting star, 

And wronged by man, on man he deluged war. 

How many fell as Victims to his rage ! 

And scarce could blood, his blasting wrath assuage ; 

How many fell ! for whom ? his soul would cry — 

For thee Count Oswald — yes, for thee they die — 

And when the flesh had felt the sanguine knife, 

How oft had Hassan lengthened out the life, 320 

To see if Oswald bled — this all his hope, 

With this alone, he direst ills could cope ; 

This was the food on which he long had fed, 

His joy were glutted — show but Oswald dead. 



39 



But not that painless sleep which age would give, 

Than see him thus, oh ! rather let him live ! 

Nor yet a Soldier's fall — an unfelt gasp — 

As flitting insects, lifeless with a grasp — 

Nor yet the Villain's sentenced for his vice — 

This were no death — this were but Paradise ! S30 

How easy thus, to speed him from the world ! 

Had these but pleased, how soon had he been hurled ! 

Though years had passed — yet still he wished the same, 

Awake — asleep — Count Oswald was the theme. 

He drained invention — drained it but to know 

The sharpest pangs to rack his haughty foe ; 

And chance afforded what his search refused — 

He met that Oswald whom his soul accused — 

He met him too at night — alone — unseen — 

j3ut stabbed him not for that had mercy been I 3 340 

He met him— how ? the Ruler of a train, 

A Castle's Chief— 'Twas thus they met again — 

How great a change ! a Bravo, Outlaw, he ; 

And Oswald all what Hassan ought to be— - 

And yet he envied not— 'twas better far 

He should be thus, the greater he to mar. — 

He was not known, and if he were, his foe 

Would scarcely smile on one so mean— so low— 



40 



He gained his notice — nothing boots it now 

To say (it was no marvel) when — or how — 360 

'Twas Vengeance prompted — what could Vengeance 

dare? 
Oh ! rather say ! from what it would forbear ? — 
He knew Count Oswald loved — and well he knew 
That jealousy from wronged affection grew. 
Of every evil, this was surely worst — 
See Oswald jealous — then see Oswald curst ! 
What tortures his with ardent passion fired, 
Doating — scorned — admiring 4 — unadmired ! 
What tortures his! who vainly hopes to find, 
The soul congenial to his longing mind, 360 

Or being loved, accounts it but a show, 
To hide the flames which may for others glow ; 
Who hanging o'er the sweetly sleeping face, 
Whose balmy softness courts the warm embrace, 
The inviting lip, the soft bewitching smile, 
Bespeaking variance with minutest guile ; 
The hidden eye which still emits a light, 
As Sol though sunk illumes the clouds of night ; 
The dimpled cheek as innocently pale 
As sinless infant's wrapt in slumber's veil : 370 

What tortures his, who looks on blooms like these, 
Yet fears a snake is coiled within the leaves ; 



41 



Who thinks a rival has the better part 

Of that which he entirely claimed— the heart ! 

And deeming thus, such beauties were a spell, 

To adore— yet hate— to form a heavenly hell ! 5 

And Hassan knew Zulema — knew that she 

Was all that hope could paint, or love could be : 

But Zang-a claimed hei — there his art could play — 

Through Zanga's love, he Oswald's peace could slay. 180 

This well he did, for with his cunning wile, 

How oft had Oswald hurried on to guile ! 

How oft had added to his list of sin, 

And felt that all the jealous feel within. 

So oft, his Foe grew grudging of his spleen, 

And glutted vengeance wished to close the scene. 

One act alone remained — and ere the rising sun 

Should warm the earth, that promised to be done— 

For this he came — for this that feast observed, 

For this that murkiness of soul preserved.— 390 

Who treads the turret with that hurried pace, 

Which marks the soul at enmity with peace? 

Who's he, so strangely muffled in his vest, 

With clenched hand close folded on his breast. 

With angry eye dark rolling on the earth, 

Robbed of the glow of amity and mirth ? 



42 



Tis Oswald, Stranger — now in dunnest night 

He quits the Hall, and stalks like evening sprite ; 

He saw that meteor glanced with harmlessness, 

And found that cry the cry of fearfulness ; 400 

But o'er his soul a haughty anguish stole, ■ 

And Pride and Love in mingling torrents roll— 

And why ? because his heart too deeply felt, 

There triumphed one^— his love, nor hate could melt — 

" What whisper's that? — it murmurs from that Cave 

" Which Hassan only knows— oh ! treacherous slave." — 

" Does Hassan walk ? — " 

"He does — " 

" all is prepared, 
" We only wait the signal from my Lord — " 410 

" Where wanders Oswald ? in the feasting hall ?" 
ei Here — villain ! here — to glory in thy fall — " 
Down sunk the traitor — Oswald rushed within, 
There wildly waved his hand— "secure that fiend, 
" Seize Hassan, seize," — the guards as quick obey — 
" The western dungeon — haste — away — away ! 
In vain that chief with maddened fury burns, 
Betrayed — out-numbered — hemmed — he only turns 
To sound his bugle — Oswald marks it — rips 
From his side his steel, and dashes from the lips 420 



43 



The signal trumpet, (ready for the sound,) 
Then grasps it rolling* o'er the marble ground. 

V. 

Hassan secured — with double guard without — • 

The astonished bands pursue their Chieftain's rout — 

One half he leads where first suspicions rose, 

And stations there, to frighten back the foes 

Entombed within— then hurries through the court. 

And quickly gains- the farthest-stationed fort, 

Glides through the yard, and rattles o'er the bridge, 

Runs through the wood, and winds the mountain's ridge, 

Wheels through the pass, and rallies at the cave. — 

" Halt ! halt !" the followers mark their Chieftain's wave — 

" Your carbines charge — be ready with your brands — " 

Now o'er the cavern thoughtfully he stands — 

Beneath the earth a hum of words was heard — 

" Descend and follow — " all obey the word — 

" Prepare — discharge — " the whizzing bullets fly — 

The yell of battle joins the dying cry 

Of those beneath — scarce fled an hour, when lo ! 

Eternal darkness shrouds upon the foe. 430 

No light to point their passage from the cell ; 

No Chief at hand to guide them to repel ; 



44 



Too scared to think from whence destruction flew; 

Too mad to call reflection to their view ; — 

In frantic anguish. Bravo, Bravo kills ; 

The friendly weapon, friendly torrents spills. 

VJ. 

Alone — in darkness — fettered — Hassan stood, 

While o'er his soul his blasted projects brood ; 

That last, which fairest promises had clothed, 

Has made him that detested thing he loathed. 440 

With sullen foot he drags his clanking chain, 

To see how much of freedom might remain ; 

And finds enough, to crawl where latticed hole 

Shews storm and night — as murky as his soul. 

With heedless ear he marks the waters splash, 

With fearless eyes he sees the lightnings flash, 

With heart unscared he hears the warring pole, 

Alike the lesser and the louder roll ; 

And scarcely feels the chilling drops that fall, 

From ropy morsels on the rotting wall. 450 

And though the light that ushered in the day, 

Might leave him that which chilling reptiles prey ; 

And ere the sun should variegate the west, 

Its dying ray might flash on him at rest— 



At rest ! heaven's hope, how doubtful must that be 

In one to heaven so long an enemy ! 

Before bright Cynthia with her starry train, 

Should shade the mountain, and the vale again, 

He might be paler than the palest beam 

She ever flashed on coldest winter's scene ; 460 

He might be sunk beneath proud Oswald's force, 

And lay a fearful — pallid — mangled corse — 

Yet still in Hassan these were pangs unfelt, 

Too proud to tremble, and too hard to melt, 

His heart scarce whispered him a chill in these, 

Which felt by some — eternally would freeze — 

His only anguish in that gloomy cell, 

That quickly — feebly — and unknown he fell. 

The only prayer that echoed from his breast, 

That Oswald's eyes might look on him — confest. 470 



OSWALD, 



CJNTO FOURTH. 



Dixit ; et in pectus turn denique vulnera passum 
Qua patuit ferro, letalem condidit ensem ; 
Nee valuere manus infixum educere telum, 
Expulet ipse cruor— — 

Ovid. Met. 



I. 

The dappled east with youthful morning gleams, 
Dim through the grate Apollo darts his beams ; 
O'er Hassan's face how gloomily they play, 
'Round Hassan's tower how grudgingly they stray.- 
He slept — and soundly — for he marked not him, 
Who darkly, rudely, to his prison came ; 



47 



He noticed not when unknown footsteps trod, 

Without the entrance of his wild abode ; 

He stirred not — moved not — when with clanking fell 

The rusty barriers of his rotting cell ; 10 

Nor heard the creeking of the sullen key, 

Which op'd that sepulchre for misery. — 

'Twas Oswald moved the fastenings of his keep, 

'Twas Oswald broke intrusive on his sleep ; 

His Foe was lengthened on a couch of straw— 

And bound — yet Oswald trembled as he saw. 

And Hassan dreamt— for grinningly his mien, 

Betrayed the fury of the war within — 

He shook his chain — he startled at the sound — 

Awake — asleep — he bounced from the ground. 20 

He looked on Oswald and he laughed to see 

His welcome, fearful, hated enemy. 

" Oswald, thou knowest me not, or thou wouldst fear 

" To view thy captive even fettered here; 

" Recal remembrance — Hassan is no fiend, 

" Thy trampled prisoner once was called thy friend — " 

" Am I awake — " 

" most gratefully — " 

" art thou — " 
" I am Rinaldo— dost thou know me now ?— " 30 



48 



" Whence sprung thy hate ? — " 

" can that a wonder be ?— 
" It was engendered with my poverty. 
" When first thou knewest me, I was deemed rich, 
" The world supposed me honest,— but I had an itch, 
" A damning itch for play— .this soon was known, 
" Through this, thy seeds of amity were sown. 
" My ruin quickened, — yet there was in thee, 
" A something— which robbed ruin's misery : 
" Nor was I conscious of my blasted state, 40 

" Till devastation made reform — too late. 
" Enraged— I staked my all, that all was won, 
" And rich Rinaldo was — a thing undone. — 
" Thou mayst remember this— then, first I thought, 
" My early ruin was by villains wrought. 
" I told thee thus, and thou wast still a friend, 
" And saidst, that thou wouldst probe it to the end — 
" This pleased me not, and then unknown to thee, 
" I blamed my Rival for his villany ; 
" His honour wronged, he dared me to a dell — 50 

" I met him there — alone — I fired — he fell. 
" But ere the magic from the clay was fled, 
" His withering lips the power of truth obeyed, 
" My sense he scathed with this blasting tale, 



49 



" That thou, Count Oswald, couldst my fall reveal. 

" Though known to me thy guilt, (I scarce know why,) 

" I kept concealed from all thy treachery; 

" I Was a murderer — 'twere not strange, should he 

" Who robbed my wealth, conduct me to the tree. — 

" Thou yet wast kind and pressedst me to depart — 60 

" I wrung thy hand — but cursed thee in my heart — 

" And I had stabbed thee then — but well I thought 

" With such a death my fall were cheaply bought.—- 

" I fled my Country, and I linked with those 

" To Heaven and Mortals sworn for ever foes — 

" I ne'er forgave thee — no, within— within — 

" Thy rising pomp eternally was seen ; 

" I formed thee viewing with a scornful eye, 

" My coward heart which prompted me to fly ; 

" I saw thee vaunting on my fallen state, 70 

" And looked the Daemon of revenge and hate ; 

" And then I wished with Hermit's purest breath, 

" Our last embrace had been the hug of death. 

" And ere we met, I had resolved to see 

" The blazing splendour of thy infamy j 

* { But Fortune smiled, and by my Spy I heard, 

" This purchased Castle owned thee for its Lord : 



50 



" Thou lovedst — but vainly — and thou claimedst my aid, 

" And with thy gold it was profusely paid. 

" /knew thy Rival, but I told not thee, 80 

" For fear his death should ease thy jealousy ; 

" How oft with joy my blighted face has glowed, 

" When wild distortions inward writhings told, 

" When clenched hand, and starting, rolling eye, 

" Expressed the fury of thy agony ; 

" When thou hast sworn to give me half thy all 5 

" To search — to find — to work — thy Rival's fall — 

" 'Twas then Count Oswald, that I praised my skill, 

" Which urged to torture first — and then to kill. 

" So great thy wish to see his spirit's flight 90 

" Thou daredst to seek me in my Cave at night — 

" To mingle with my swarthy Band, and be 

" Esteemed a spy or bribed enemy. — 

" I left my home — I saw the tower — the cell — 

" In which thy chained Rival was to dwell. — 

44 I sought my den no more, but seemed to roam, 

" As if to drag thy Foeman from his home ; 

" But oh! I stayed — it joys my soul to tell ! 

" To seize thy Castle— Wealth — Zulema — All. — 

" The time arrived — thou gavest a feast — afraid 100 

" We should by prating Vassals be betrayed 



51 



" If unemployed — at midnight was the hour 

" Agreed upon, to yield him to thy power. 

" I sought thy Hall and calmly, gladly sat— 

" Till lightning came—and thou didst make retreat ; 

" And then I doubted, for too well I thought, 

" That thou mightst bring my sanguine plot to nought; 

" Then faithless Fortune hurled me with her frown, 

" Or else thy shade to other worlds had flown. 

" I'm now thy prisoner, yet no pain I feel, 110 

" Since that my soul has nothing to reveal." 

'Twere vain to paint how Oswald heard this tale ! 

It was a bolt from thunder's loudest peal ; 

He was a stone, an adamantine rock, 

Asunder torn by earthquake's riving shock ; 

His heart was chaos, wrangling, revelling there, 

Gnashed hatred — grief — destruction and despair. 

He rushed without — and had not Guards observed, 

The Captive Chief had scarcely been preserved ; 

The door they bolted, and replaced the chain, 120 

Which kept Rinaldo safe — alone again. — 

" Sol sinks to rest — Night spreads her spangled veil 

" Around her Queen, enrobed in golden mail 

" Eyes look your last — no more at dying day, 
" Shall ye behold that lovely parting ray. — 



" But what of that— e'en yonder Orb must die, 

<l And gild no more the brightly blushing sky ; 

" And day shall cease — and thou, O Moon, that now 

" Dost proudly swim, shalt cease with light to glow; 

" That hill shall end its giant shades to throw, 130 

" And darkly sinking from its base be brought, 

" Or whirling down, shall be absorbed — in nought ; 

" And yonder stars, each glorious to its world 

" Shall fall, and quick in nothingness be hurled. 

" And the bright canopy of gem-dressed Heaven 

" By Dissolution's hand be rudely riven ; 

" Or battling with those orbs of fiercer fire, 

" Be scorched, devoured — o'erwhelmed by heavenly ire. 

" And e'en the immeasurable sea, shall be 

" Drunk in the fury of its own anarchy ! 140 

" And all must die— then far the noblest he, 

" Who with one blow can set the spirit free. 

" The coward only gasps away his breath — 

" The brave man rushes and embraces death. 

" Poor fool is he, who keeps the angry sonl, 

" Longer confined, grown weary of control ; 

" To flit about its tenement of clay, 

" Shrieking for liberty in nightless day — 

" 'Tis but a blow, and in that blow is more 

" Of good, than worlds of medicine for cure — 150 



53 



« As to the hungry, is the welcome grain ; 

" As to the thirsty, is the falling rain ; 

" As to the weary, is refreshing rest ; 

" So is the dagger, to the world-tired breast ! — 

"What sounds are those, hoarse murmuring from the 

wall?—" 
" Were all slain there ? — " 

" yes, I observed their fall. — " 
" Where lies that one who issued from the cave — " 
" Count Oswald gave to him a watery grave — 
" Poor blinded fool, to think our Chieftain— Thief — 160 
" And take our Master for the Bandit Chief — " 
" The night was dark, and such a lonely hour, 
" He scarce expected Oswald on the Tower — 
(t When dies their Chief ? — " 

" to-morrow, whisperers say 
" His corse will hang for ravens' jaws a prey." — 
" Forboding heart ! — thy prophecies were right — 
" 'Twas Osmond wrought destruction on that night ; 
" But peace be with him, for his soul was brave — 
" His deeds deserved a far more noble grave, 170 

" For him Rinaldo's stubborn breast can heave — 
" To-morrow, did they say — 'twill please my sprite 
" To see them plundered of their promised sight — 
" Can Oswald think that e'er Rinaldo's form 
" Was made to rattle in a midnight storm ; 



54 



" That these chained limbs were e'er designed to be 

" The sport of winds — suspended from a tree — 

" I much have done, yet, much remains to do — 

ts Come, withering courage, arm thyself anew — 

" I thank thee, Oswald, that in thoughtless speed 180 

" Thou droppedst this dagger" — does Rinaldo bleed ? 

The blow is given — Nature heaves a groan — 

The spirit weeps — she writhes — she tears — she's gone. 



OSWALD, 

& Carte* 



CJNTO FIFTH. 

Mais latrompette sonne. lis s'elancent tous deux ; 
lis commencent enfin cc combat dangereux. 
Tout ce qu'ont pu jamais la valeur et l'adresse, 
L'ardeur, la fermete, la force, la souplesse, 
Parut des deux cotes en ce choc eclatant. 

Voltaire, 

I. 

Did any hear the war-song on the heath ? 
Did any mark the trumpeter of death ? 
Did no one note the nod of plumage gay ; 
The dashing war-horse foaming for the fray ; 
The hum of armies, and the blaze of steel, 
When first it glittered on the distant hill ; 



56 



The floating banners, and the brandished sword, 

The crested Chieftain, and the bat tie- word ; 

The valley's echo, and the cavern's cry ; 

The plain's hoarse bellow, and the mountain's sigh ? 10 

None marked these harbingers of Conflict red — 

In Oswald's Hall each Vassal bowed his head ; 

Nor dreamt of War, nor deemed of coming foe — 

The Bandits perished on that night of woe ; 

The Guards were placed, but recent weariness, 

To nodding sleep, changed sombre watchfulness ; 

Their Chief kept sheltered from intrusive prate, 

His heart ne'er whispered the impending fate ; 

Enough of present misery he knew, 

'Twere strange if aught could harrow him anew. 20 

II. 

As rattles thunder from the storm-clothed cloud, 
When lightning bursts its angry rolling shroud, 
Came horsemen, clanking on the studded way, 
In mingling shouts and ruder trumpet bray. 
As nods the mountain when the earthquake scowls, 
And wild convulsion battles in its bowels, 
So waved the gate from hundred axes clang, 
So shook the turret as the jarrings rang. 



57 



As harshly falls the darkening 1 mountain oak, 

On vale — beneath the peasant's groaning- stroke ; 30 

So fell the gate, (as sword men onward dashed,) 

Of Oswald's tower — and deafened as it crashed. 

As the last dying shriek, when on some rock, 

The Vessel tossed, sinks splitting with the shock; 

So screamed the inmates of the wretched Hall, 

When wild huzzas proclaimed the barriers' fall. 

Then, Oswald hurried from his inner cell, 

Roused by the shouts of foes, and war-tongued knell, — 

With madness gazing in his vacant stare, 

He rushed to dungeon dark — to seek Rinaldo there — 40 

He leapt the stairs and bursted on the door, 

But found all fastened as he deemed before — 

Shrill creeked the grating ! pale on gory straw, 

(His heart e'en shuddered as the sight he saw,) 

Laid dead Rinaldo ! Oswald held the light, 

The half-closed eyes ne'er woke from flame so bright ; 

Stabbed Nature ceased to weep, but the red flood, 

With bubbling morsels on the death-gash stood — 

The deed was fresh — the cold polluted hand, 

With Death's firm grasp, contained the reeking brand : 

And he had gazed till gazing was no more — 

But Oswald turned to mark the growing roar ; 



58 



His Foe was dead — who caused the rising yell? 

" No matter who, 'tis duty to repel ;" — 

Yet had his eye but turned on Eastern Spire, 

His heart had guessed the cause of present ire. 

Down to the court with whirlwinds' rage he flew, 

There blames the terror of his flying Crew, 

Steps with his blade the opponent bands that press, 

And fires his followers with a quick redress ; 60 

Now fiercely drives on cased enemy, 

Tears with his force the studded panoply, 

Makes helmet groan, and wounded cuirass weep, 

Beneath the fury of his arm's long sweep ; 

Around him close his fast reviving Train, 

Anxious to wipe their valour's recent stain. 

Horsemen and horses, stagger to the ground, 

And foot lie bleeding in a ghastly mound ; 

Pennons and plumes, from hands and helmets struck, 

In greedy draughts the streaming torrents suck. 70 

Have any seen, when autumn's floods have fallen, 

Some bounded depth with many tempests swollen ; 

How falls the bank, when first the waters gush I 

How all is hurried with the sweeping rush? 

So fell the foe, by Oswald's sabre's sway, 

So fied the foe before his blood-marked way : 



59 



Have any marked some caveless founded rock, 

Withstand the fury of the torrent's shock ? 

So Zanga dared to meet that whirling wave, 

Which hurled so many to an early grave. 80 

Yes Zanga, Stranger, know 'twas he that broke, 

From circling friends to brave the impending stroke — 

Count Oswald chilled to view his dauntless Foe, 

Let fall the arm upraised to give the blow ; 

And looked — a gory Tiger, faint by meaner prey ; 

That growls, retires, when Lions join the fray. 

" Nay do not shrink— Zulerna stolen restore, 

" Or thy black soul shall live in clay no more. 

" I see thee tremble — Coward ! dost thou fly ? 

" But e'en thy flight shall lack security : 90 

" Fire, fire the fort, — his looks bespoke her dead — 

" Let flames and slaughter, Zanga's vengeance spread !" 

Quick flies the brand, the red destructive torch, 

Loud howls Distraction in the Castle's porch ; 

Forth burst the flames in wildest vomitings, 

The blazing air with loudest clamours rings ; 

Down falls the ceiling, sparkles rise in clouds, 

And hissing vanish in the bloody floods : 

Out rush the Vassals, maddened with their pain — 

Alas ! they fly from Castle's rage in vain ; 100 



60 



Though freed from Death beneath the burning Hall, 

The sword is ready to complete their fall. 

Oh ! Zanga, wherefore didst thou steel thy heart, 

To see unmoved, the soul from body part ; 

Was Mercy withered, or was Pity dead? — 

They both were blasted, when Zulema fled. 

Onward he rushes! why? he saw afar, 

His Foe unwounded with the fire or war, 

And like a Tiger plundered of his prey, 

He bounced through flames to seize — to tear — to slay — 

Why stops he now with all that suddenness? 

His eyes are fixed, his feet are motionless ; 

'Twas she, Zulema, living, caught his gaze,— 

A star dim-twinkling through a comet's blaze. 

He looked not long, he rushed from room to room, 

Nor marked the scorching floor, the flaming doom ; 

The falling beams which crackling round him broke, 

The belching blasts, the suffocating smoke ; 

The flying balls which thickened as he flew, 

And louder whizzed, as Zanga nearer drew : 120 

He saw no danger, 'twas absorbed in love — 

He feared alone for her exposed above ; 

Nor felt in vain ! for as he nearer hied, 

His deadliest foe with naked steel he spied 



61 



With outstretched arm, with ready pointed blade, 
His better all — Zulema's heart to invade. 

When Oswald sped from Zanga's dreaded ire, 
Through roaring- flames he rushed to Eastern Spire, 
Escaped the death which hissed in winged lead, 
Prepared to torture, what he meanly fled! 130 

He brought from out that oft frequented Tower, 
Zulema — trembling as a full blown flower, 
Quivering by blast or overwelmed by shower ; 
Resolved since Victory gave his foe the wreath, 
It should be withered by Zulema's death. 

Ah ! who can tell how Zanga braved this sight ? 

A trembling dove in claws of murderous kite ! 

A harmless lamb by greedy monster held ! 

His heart with fear and fury bursting — swelled; — 

He dared not pause— yet should the aim be vain, 140 

And that fair neck, that ivory bosom stain, 

Should he be murderer — "Alia ! guide the ball ! — " 

Why sinks Count Oswald on the turret wall? 

Why drops his dagger with no guilty stain ? 

Why shout the troops around — again — again ? 

The kite is slain, the fearful dove survives, 



62 



The wolf is dead, the harmless lambkin lives ! 

" She lives ! She lives 1 " he waits not —looks not more, 

Nor heaven nor earth, has greater bliss in store : 

" She lives! She lives !" and in that sight, was all 150 

Could lull his anguished heart, enrap his soul — 

Extatie sight ! all others now are gone, 

And nothing is but that sweet loveliest one. 

Oh ! who can paint the nameless joy which thrilled 

Through Zanga's heart, which Zanga's bosom filled? 

That magic tide which rushed through every vein, 

And changed to purest bliss severest pain? 

As well might strive to fathom Ocean's spring ; 

Or the dark womb of roaring Tempests' sing. 

He flies — he bounds — he gains — they meet — embrace — 

Lips join to lips, and face encounters face — 

Again — again— and still again he kissed, 

Caressed again, and was again caressed! 

Gazed on her withered bloom, her altered eye, 

And felt— Oh, yes ! a joyful agony !— 7 

Oh ! how her grief-worn form he madly clasped, 

As if 'twere death insuperably grasped ! — 

" What ails my Zanga ? ah ! his cheek grows cold — 

" I'm thy Zulema— do not loose thy hold — 

" Oh ! speak again, and tell me thou dost love — 170 



63 



" I have not wronged thee— witness stars above ! 

" Ah ! look not so, that wildness, prifhy say ? 

"■ Ne'er torture thus my soul, Oh ! rather slay ! 

" Whence flows that blood ! — alas ! I see it now, 

" Death pales thy face, and hovers on thy brow. — 

" Oh ! cursed Oswald, wherefore didst thou live, 

" With dying hand this deadliest wound to give ? 

" Or, if thou must have followers to thy grave, 

" Why didst aot stab Suiema — Zanga save ? — 

" Spare, spare him heaven !— O lengthen out his thread !" 

The prayer is vain — the soul's, for ever fied ! — - 

Nor tarried long Count Oswald's in its clay, 

A moment more—'twas on its darksome way : 

He, wounded fell when Zanga truly aimed — 

But died not then — another deed remained — 

He lived to doubly die, he lived to see, 

Zulema, Zanga, prove what love could be ; 

And in that sight, there was more killing pain. 

Than if were heaped the pangs of every slain ! 

The wounds were bliss to what his feelings were — 190 

Oh! how he longed their mutual joy to mar ! — 

He saw that dagger which before be drew, 

And stretched his withering arm to take anew, 

And like a snake, he crawled around the two 

Too lost in love, his murderous creep to view ; 



64 



By Vengeance nerved, he raised his quivering hand, 
And in the back of Zanga sheathed the brand ; 
And as the life gushed gory from the wound, 
And as his Foe fell writhing to the ground ; 
The glows of pleasure, momentally chace 200 

Death's hovering paleness, from Count Oswald's face ; 
When the last groan, from murdered Zanga stole, 
In choaking gasps — he laughed away his soul. 

III. 

Where went Zulema ? on that dreadful night, 

Astonished— speechless — one observed her flight ; 

She stayed on turret braving battle-yell, 

Fixed to the spot where bleeding Zanga fell ; 

She held his hand — it colder, colder grew, 

She marked his eyes swim dim in deathly dew ; 

She viewed his falling cheek, his marble brow, 210 

His heart throb fainter, and his blood creep slow ; 

She saw death flapping with his wing of lead, 

On all she loved — she saw him dying — dead — 

She sighed not — groaned not — nor a single tear 

Rolled from her eye or stole upon the bier; 

But ere she left that all which formed her bliss, 

On the the cold face she flung Distraction's kiss :— 



65 



She shrunk convulsive— for that sickening chill 

Which there sat freezing, thrilled her to the fill. 

She rose — she tore away — a bitter laugh 220 

Told how her soul could maddening sorrows quaff; 

She looked not — spoke not — as she hurried by, 

Her eyes froze motionless on Vacancy ; 

Her trembling hands were folded on that breast, 

Which mocked the whiteness of the whitest vest ; 

Her lips were quivering ; and her long black hair 

In wildest looseness, whistled in the air ; 

She seemed — she was — the Maniac of Despair ! 

IV. 

She grew a flower of sweetest comeliness, 

Green blooming in a barren wilderness ; 230 

A single stalk, exposed to blasting gales, 

In midst a vale that pestilence exhales ; 

Only one spot of land was verdant there, 

In which this Lily budded, flourished fair ; 

Yet ere it flowered, from out this little earth, 

A shrub rose sprouting of a larger growth ; 

Its thicker branches heeded not the wind, 

But served a shelter for the softer kind ; 

Secured by this, the Lily fairer grew, 

And leafed and blossomed with a brighter hue ; 240 



66 



Its thriving shoots with such success extend, 

At length the Lily and the Laurel — blend! 

The lightning came, and with its scorching blast, 

The Laurel burnt — and changed the Lily's cast! 

Oft has the Peasant as he passed the wood 

Which joins the Tower, in mute amazement stood, 

To mark that senseless Beauty's frantic mood. 

As oft would she some wild-growing flowers cull, 

Or glossy branch from nearer beach-tree pull ; 

Then with a tripping foot would bring it near,— 250 

" Oh ! bear this chaplet to my Zanga's bier." — 

A moment gone, with Madness' suddenness, 

Would screaming fly in wildest wretchedness! 

The forest Straggler, who would farther stray, 

Had noted green sods decked with flowrets gay ; 

The daisy white, the violet pallid blue, 

The sighing willow, and the mourning yew, 

On boneless graves, oft passing, caught his view : 

While on some green-grass mound, or leaf-formed mat, 

With bursting heart, the weeping Beauty sat ; 260 

And the big tears which trickled down her cheek, 

And gleamed like gems about her sun-burnt neck, 

Looked like the fullest drops of Autumn's shower, 

Which vainly fall on Autumn's blasted flower, 



67 



Which o'er the leaves a useless moisture spread, 

When roots are sapless, — and the stalk is dead ! 

So poor Zulema wept ! for though awhile 

Through streaming: Sorrow — Reason seemed to smile ! 

Within, within, Delirium built her throne — 

For her heart's life eternally was gone ! 270 

Soon, from her eyes the pearls would cease to flow, 

And the more bitter smile of Madness grow. 

No home she knew — and scarce would lulling sleep, 

With soothing softness o'er her senses creep ; 

Alone — by night — she wandered near some stream, 

Whose flow transparent kissed the Moon's pale gleam, 

There, in the mirror, would observe her shade, 

Till Fancy changed the shadow — to a Maid — 

Then would she tell her Zanga's cruel fate, 

And her Avhole tale of Misery relate ; 28 

And almost lean that nothingness to press, 

Which stood so mute to hear her wretchedness : 

(Oh! had she bent and tottered from the brink! 

She must have fallen — eternally to sink ! 

Sunk from the sedgy shore, down, down beneath, 

And for a friend embraced the Monster Death !) 

Or to the lonely Hind that journeyed there, 

Point out her Zanga in some twinkling star. 



68 



Oft, has the Stranger stopt with anxious ear 

To mark strange music trembling in the air; 290 

While the pale Minstrel melancholy stood, 

Near the green margin of the ripling flood ; 

And looked — with rose-decked vest, and flower* wove hair, 

A something heavenly breathing earthly air'. 

And as the notes rose swelling on the gale, 

Or warbling vanished in a melting peal, 

Dumb grew the night birds, as afraid to be 

The rude disturbers of such minstrelsy : 

Oh ! strains of witchery ! whose soft notes fall, 

As curling mists along the mountains roll ; 300 

Or as love's darts, which magically bound, 

Please as they pierce, and gladden as they wound ; 

Soft — as the dew which steals along the flower ; 

Sad — as the sigh at Nature's dying hour ! — 

'Twas Autumn — with the morn the Woodman rose 

From his mean couch yet, undisturbed repose. 

Soon leaves his mossy cot — (beneath which shed, 

Peace dwelt with Health) — the accustomed road to tread 

To that old wood, where oft the aged oak 

Fell to the ground, beneath his groaning stroke. 310 

His home is vanished — and he gains the shore. 

Yet sees not her so often seen before — 



69 



'Twas somewhat strange ! but then, perhaps the Maid 

Had earlier been, and in the forest strayed. 

The night arrived — the Clown retrod his way, 

Yet met her not — nor saw her all that day. 

Another sun, and stilLanother flew, 

And the lost Stranger gladdened not his view — 

He trod the wood, but yet in vain he sought, 

For the close search no wished for knowledge brought. 

Carved on the bark of every sap-full tree, 

The wood-wild Maniac's sorrows he could see : 

As Paris wrote in sacred Ida*s grove, 

So fair Zulema told her Zanga's love. 8 

When the first gleaming of the sixth appeared, 

Came stronger faith for what was greatly feared. 

For one observed, returning from the wood, 

Roses and lilies — floating on the flood! 

As if fresh washed from poor Zulema's vest, 

Or rudely hurried from her thick-decked breast : 330 

And a lone Fisherman who toiled that night, 

Ere the sad morning of her sadder flight, 

Marked from his bark a something rudely splash, 

Like the harsh echo of a fallen rock's dash ; 

Saw the stream ruffled, curlingly to float, 

And louder beat around his fast-moored boat; 



70 



Thrice, the strange bubbling sounded on the stream, 
Thrice, the strange ebbing wavered in the gleam. 

IV. 

Farewell, farewell sweet Maid! yet oft on thee, 

Shall my morn's thought, and evening's pastime be ; 34© 

Long shall my Memory retain thy woe, 

And for thy wrongs the love-dewed tear shall flow ; 

When Mirth intrusive steals upon my hour ; 

Or Pleasure courts me to her siren bower ; 

When the wild Dance invites; or Banquet smiles; 

And Riot beckons with her thousand wiles; 

Oft, will I leave the beauty-glowing dome, 

Near the sad wood, the sadder shore to roam ; 

To think on thee, to dwell upon thy fate, 

Till my full soul with sorrow shall dilate. 350 

And as some Traveller, lost in forest's maze, 

Mourns the departure of the Sun's last blaze ; 

So will I weep, as oft I wander there, 

The eternal setting — of thy death-veiled star. 

END OF OSWALD. 



NOTES. 



Note 1, page 2. 
Yet as the Ephesian-s still our deeds shall last— 
Eratostratus, an Ephesian, who burnt the temple of Diana, 
merely to immortalize his name by so extraordinary an action. 

Plut.in Alex. 

Note 2, page 33. 
'Twos at that season when the hoary frost— 
Tempus erat, vitrea quo primum terra pruina 
Spargitur — 

Ariadne Theseo, Ovid. 

Note 3, page 39. 
But stabbed him not— for that had mercy been /— . 
I did not stab him, that were poor revenge. 

Revenge, Young. 

Note 4, page 40, 
Doating, scorning, admiring, unadmired. 
But O, what damned minutes tells he o'er, 
Who doats, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves. 

Othello, Shakespear. 



72 



Note 5, page 41. 
To adore — yet hate — to form a heavenly hill ! 
The mind is its own place, and in it self 
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven ! 

Paradise Lost, Book 1st, Milton. 

Note 6, page 60 
A star dim twinkling through a comet's blaze ! 
The comet's tail, or beams, always opposite to the sun, are of 
so thin and transparent a substance, that the fixed stars may be 
seen through them. 

Sturm's Reflections. 

Note 7, page 62 
And felt — O yes ! a joyful agony! 
Pleasant is the joy of grief ! 

Ossian, 

Note 8, page 69. 
As Paris wrote in sacred Ida's grove, 
So fair Zulema told her Mango's love. 
Incisce servant a. te mea nomina fagi ; 
Et legor (Enone, falce notata tua. 

(Enone Paridi, Ovicl. 






The SUICIDE. 



THE SUICIDE. 



Hark ! from the deep retreat of yonder grove, 
Swell the soft notes of unextinguished love. 
Mark, how they mount upon the evening gale — 
Now with the breeze sinks mournfully the wail. 
Joyless the strains — but Oh ! so sweet they flow, 
The streaming eyes weep pleasurable woe. 
There is a something in the heart's mild pain, 
We mourn the sounds — and yet we wish again ; 
A pleasing sorrow o'er the senses steals, 
The soul absorbs, and welcomes— as it feels. 
Poor widowed Mary, form of misery, 
None less deserve, few know thy agony ; 
Bright were the prospects of thy youthful days, 
Bright—as the, torch of Beauty in thy gaze ; 



Yet ah ! how short thy spring ! how wild the blow, 
That crazed thy brain, and made thee — child of woe. 

Soft was her eye — George saw, and could but love — 
She heard his vows, and blushing did approve. 
Thrice had the rolling year its circuit run, 
Thrice, — and no murky cloud eclipsed their sun. 
Yet oft a sigh would burst, a tear would rise, 
Weaken her joy, and dim her lovely eyes. 
She felt her grief — and yet she scarce could tell 
Whence rose her sob, or why the clear drop fell ; 
Her George was kind — sincere — but he would roam, 
And leave awhile the sweet flower-scented home, 
Where blushed the rose, where bloomed the curling pea. 
Where lonely drooped the fairest lily — she. 

The Sun's last ray had faded in the west, 

The Moon's white beam flashed high above the east ; 

The light robed stars bright twinkled round their Queen ; 

The heaven-wept dew stole softly on the green ; 

As anxious Mary from her Cottage door, 

Looked with a tearful eye across the moor ; 

And at each sound that echoed o'er the lea, 

Wiped the big drop and smiled " this sure is he !" 



77 



How oft deceived ! how oft the smile had flown ! 
" Tis but the footsteps of some home-bent clown " 

At length he came — she heard the wicket move — 

" ThankGod ! thankGod ! thoo'rt now returned, my love !" 

But ah ! how changed ! no pardon-asking smile, 

No wonted kiss — to charm awhile his guile — 

He dashed her trembling from the wished embrace — 

She looked — she shrieked — despair was in his face — 

Fear's quivering lip, distraction's feverish blaze, 

Convulsions grin, the madman's sightless gaze ; 

These all she saw— and more— she looked — she viewed 

Foul Murder's withering stain — a drop of blood ! 

" Ah ! Mary see ! thou art a Murderer's wife — " 

And from his breast he plucked a blood-drenched knife — 

" Hark ! Hark! they come to drag me to the tree— 

" A Villain's death — disgrace my child and thee ; 

" No-^no — my love— this ends my life — my woe — " 

Full at his heart then hurled the damning blow. 

Too late to save, poor Mary caught his form, 

And frantic grasped the self-destructive arm, 

In wildest agony she tore her vest, 

And madly flung it on his bleeding breast ; 

Vain, vain the hinderance ! still the spouting gore 

Gushed through the robe and rolled upon the floor. 



78 



She marked the Spirit's momentary stay, 
And watched its ebbings till it ebbed away ; 
But ere it flew to that eternal shore, 
Where man can feel mortality no more, 
Where endless day — or endless night remains, 
Where boundless joy — or boundless torment reigns ! 
She heard his tale — and why his misery — 
From whence that blasting spot — that guilty die. 

Ill fated George! destroyed by deed most foul — 
One darling passion nestled in his soul ;-— 
Kind was his heart, sincere to Mary's flame, 
But oh 1 he loved (bewitching vice ! — ) to game : 
Robbed of his wealth by fickle Fortune's power ; 
Scared at the approach of Poverty's black hour; 
Roused by a Rival's agonizing boast ; — 
He claimed his life — and peace for ever lost. 

As the last groan from murdered nature stole, 
The throbless heart made known the parted soul ; 
Poor Mary screamed — but when her sireless child, 
Roused from his infant couch, by noise so wild, 
Ran with wide opened arms to claim the toy, 
The indulgent father promised for his boy ; 



StiICIDE. V 

Kissed his cold cheek, and weeping turned, and said, 
" Mama, Mama, I think Papa is dead — " 
With little fingers stretched towards the floor, 
Showed her with pouting lips— a husband's gore, 
And asked the cause — O God ! the sickening gaze ! 
Then Madness fanned her embers to a blaze ; 
Then gushed her anguish in a rending cry, 
And Reason withered with the Agony ! 

Oft as the sun declines along the hills, 

Poor widowed Mary from her Cottage steals ; 

And in the vision of her frenzied mind, 

Holds converse with her George— the whispering wind : 

Views the pale spectre in its thin simar, 

Runs to embrace, and clasps — the empty air. 



MONODY 



ON THE DEATH 



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MONODY. 



Why through the heart thrilled chillingly that knell ? 

Its doleful notes groaned Charlotte's last farewell ! 

And is she dead— and is that star so bright, 

Sunk in the shadows of eternal night ? 

Dared the dire Monster in his sickening shroud, 

Such matchless worth, such beauty to enfold ? 

Dared he to die his red unerring dart, 

In the rich torrent of so pure a heart ? 

Did not his arrow quiver in the air, 

Trembling to pierce the innocently fair ? 

Did not his fieshless joints more loudly beat, 

As his cold touch such nameless value met ? 



81 MONODY. 

Did not his paleness magically fly, 

Flushed with the radiance of her rolling eye? 

Augusta's dead — ere in its brightest blaze, ' 
The star was hurried from terrestrial gaze. 
The morning lustre of a glorious sun 
It flung — no noon it knew — ere day — 'twas gone ! — 
And yet the beam was dazzling to the eyes — 
An aching meteor in the troubled skies! 
We saw its flash, We felt the powerful ray, 
And hoped fhe dawn would glow to perfect day. 

Augusta's dead — and at her last sad groan 
Britannia wept — her fairest flower was gone ! 
Ere the sweet plant had bloomed in brightest hue, 
From sudden storm the withering lightning flew- 
Fatal the flash ! the blasted Lily died — 
A kingdom's glory and a nation's pride ! 

We heard her spirit's flight ; and what could we 
But weep its journey to eternity? 
Her blissful home — for oh ! if piety 
Can claim a crown of immortality ; 



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If white-robed charity, earth's kindest guest, 
Of the great three the loveliest and the best ; * 
If meekness, soft compassion, saintly love, 
Are the inhabitants of heaven above, 
Thou art beyond the stars ! in thee these shone, 
These were the beamings of thy cloudless sun. 

Such was a something in her nameless worth, 

Bespoke her no inhabitant of earth ! 

There was a splendour in her Halo given, 

That seemed to whisper — visitant from heaven ! 

There was a magic in her name, could dry 

The rolling torrent from affliction's eye ; 

And at her voice of sweetest sympathy, 

Hope beamed a smile, through Weeping Agony : 

It was some marvel thus entwined to see 

So much of virtue, and of royalty ; 

Pureness of soul which grandeur could not taint — 

An earthly princess — and a heavenly saint ! 

Augusta's dead — what universal woe, 

When the blessed spirit fled its clay below ! 

But chief, O Prince! was thine — for ah ! to thee 

* Faith, Hope, and Charity, but the greatest of these is 
Charity. 1 Cor. 13 chap. 13 verse. 



86 



The fondest wife, companion, friend, was she ! 

Hers was a softness such as souls above, 

Could make a wild — a Paradise of love ! 

The tongue of slander, and distrusting's guile, 

Contention's wrangling, and the scornful smile, 

Thy Charlotte never knew ! — her heaven to be 

Lost in the worship of her God- — and thee ! 

Great was thy anguish in that gloomy hour, 

When Death displayed his ever-conquering power, 

When the pale Messenger in accents wild, 

Proclaimed thee Father of a lifeless child ! 

E'en then to Heaven thy soul's fond transports fled — 

" Thank God! thank God ! the Princess is not dead!" 

But who can tell thy tearless agony, 

Thy sickening, whirling brain, thy maddening eye 

Thy grief unutterable, thy heart's wild ache, 

As if the tugging soul its chain would break! 

As o'er the darling form with tottering stand, 

Face joined to face, and hand entwined in hand, 

Thou sawest faint Nature's and the Spirit's strife, 

Markedst the last glimmerings of the ebbing life, 

Heardest the calm sufferer's prayer, " heaven's will be 

" done — " 
And viewedst — a lifeless mother and her son ! 



Thou didst not weep — tears would not — could not rise, 
Sorrow had dried the fountains of thine eyes ! 
Thou didst not speak — words could not give relief, 
Thy utterance was choaked in speechless grief. 

There is a season when voluptuous pain, 

Twisting its writhings to a cracking strain, 

Devours the senses in a nameless ache, 

Tortures the heart — but will not let it break ; 

The quivering lips in vain essay to tell 

The hoiling anguish of the inward hell; 

And all the gazer of the pangs can trace, 

Is in that gfass — the horror speaking face ! 

Such woes seemed thine — there might the viewer se% 

" Ye that have lost an Angel pity me !" 



FINIS. 



Portsea, printed by S. & S. Horsey. 



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